You’re The Comic Relief
one side of Old Washington Hall
hosts the art guild & writers group
the other a funky jazzy cafe
you’re the accepted protocol
curbside from Phyllis’ lamp shop,
apple tablet under umbrellaed
writing table, every Friday the trolley
and its melancholy bell rounds up
stragglers for the underground
railroad tour: here’s the Harriet Beecher
Stowe House with its view
of the auction block
that started the civil war
& we’re so proud
to show how a few brave
and lucky souls escaped
the night the river froze—
look there, the tour guide
glides by pointing you
out as the old crank
waiting for his free ham
sandwich & cup of joe
5 thoughts on "You’re The Comic Relief"
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Jim – I love the way your mind works and that you can put it into words! Enjoyed all that you wove into this poem.
This poem has a real kinetic energy–the end interests me a lot, situating us on that bus. I enjoyed it.
wish i was there hanging out at the table with you. 🙂 nice work here.
Love the story and the images!
Love how neatly this ties together, from title down to that last guffaw. Did not see that coming, and loved it.